


No Difference at All

by asocialconstruct



Series: Climatic Shifts [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Choking, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, M/M, No Aftercare, Non-Negotiated Kink, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shaving, Sub Steve Rogers, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there’s one thing readable in Bucky’s dark look, it’s the promise of something as soon as they really are alone.  What exactly is hard to tell these days, and if Steve thinks there’s something of the old smugness that meant he was going to get fucked into the wall as soon as the door closed, well, wishful thinking never hurt anyone, even if all they’ve done recently is barely kiss and barely touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Difference at All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).



Steve can feel Bucky’s eyes on him as soon as he sits down, and if it’s not unusual, his dick doesn’t know the difference.  Or maybe it does, and that’s the problem.

Bucky watches him across the dark quinjet, belted in and his jacket done up neatly even though the rest of them are varying stages of singed, dirty and undressed.Rhodey strips to his undershirt and starts snoring before the engines are even warm, and when Nat disappears behind the pilot’s chair and Wanda turns up her headphones so loud even Steve can hear, it’s like it’s just the two of them in the dark.Sam’s half asleep and mostly slumped against Steve’s shoulder by the time they reach altitude, leaving Steve alone squirming under Bucky’s measuring look.

Except it isn’t just them, because Bucky doesn’t move a muscle, and it’s like being watched by a predator, making him feel like he should be trying to hide and holding absolutely still by turns.The Central Park Zoo got a panther when they were kids, all lazy dark muscle and heavy eyes, and Steve hadn’t stopped drawing it for days, thinking about what all that uncoiled muscle could do.Bucky watches him like that now, and Steve’s tired muscles twitch with the mixed impulses to run to and from him.

Because if there’s one thing readable in Bucky’s dark look, it’s the promise of something as soon as they really are alone.What exactly is hard to tell these days, and if Steve thinks there’s something of the old smugness that meant he was going to get fucked into the wall as soon as the door closed, well, wishful thinking never hurt anyone, even if all they’ve done recently is barely kiss and barely touch.Hope and wishful thinking go a long way after years of living on bread alone.

Steve shifts uncomfortably under Sam’s weight and Bucky’s look, harder than he wants to think about and thankful for the dark.

The throbbing vibrations of the engine soak into his bones by the time they land, and the quiet click of cooling metal is unnatural in the humid dark as the rest stumble out of the plane.Steve tells himself that he dawdles because everything aches, from his scalp to the flats of his feet, and everything does ache, but he knows as well as Bucky does that he’s hanging back, fiddling with the buckles of his shield, to catch time alone with Bucky before whatever moment this is stretches to breaking.

Bucky marks him, just as clearly eyeing Sam as the last one to yawn and stretch in the open hatch and then Bucky’s on him, moving out of the dark to pin Steve against the wall out of sight of the others.The air whooshes out of him in one breath before Bucky’s hands are really even on him, shoved back against the bulkhead so quiet he can hear the others still walking away.

Then it doesn’t matter if he can breathe or not because Bucky’s teeth are on his neck, stubble scraping his adam’s apple raw as Bucky pins him in place with solid hands.Bucky’s too close to look at so if Steve’s blushing at how bad he needs to be fucked or the thought of getting caught, it’s not like there’s anyone to see.Bucky knocks his thighs apart with one sharp knee and strokes him rough through his uniform.Steve tries to tip his hips into it, scrabbling for the buckles on his uniform with clumsy, blunt fingers, but Bucky shoves his hands away.They never went slow the first time either, so there’s no point to it now, but Bucky slaps his hands away when Steve tries to grab him, and suddenly Steve’s wrists are pinned over his head, almost bowing him back against the metal wall.It makes his shoulders burn and his cock ache where he’s pressed into Bucky’s palm, tendons in his thighs and calves stretched tight.

Bucky hisses a breath against his throat, hot where his lips brush under Steve’s ear and they’re both frozen, voices outside coming closer now that Steve knows to listen past the blood rushing in his own ears.Nat and Rhodey, maybe, doing a walkaround of the plane.

Bucky tips back to look him in the eye again finally, half silhouetted by the soft light filtering in from the hanger and limned by the garish blue off the pilot’s dash.His eyes are dark, too close to see anything in except Steve’s own flushed face and the flicker of something else as Bucky squeezes Steve’s wrists over his head.Bucky’s eyes flicker to the open hatch, the voices, but his weight is just as heavy, keeping Steve trapped right where he is with Bucky stroking his cock half-distracted.Bucky tracks the voices, all coiled tension and lazy hands like Steve’s incidental, his face turned away so all Steve gets is his dark profile.

It’s enough to make him strain against, make him push against Bucky’s hold and warm weight and it might have been enough if Steve had his thoughts together in a real fight but in this fight it’s not, not with Bucky’s broad hand pressing the seams of his uniform against the length of his cock and pinning him with a hard thigh.Steve draws one ragged breath to say something, he doesn’t even know what, but it’s gone before it’s formed with Bucky’s metal hand across his throat, tipping his head back hard against the metal wall.

He’s got all Bucky’s attention now, that dangerous laser focus that almost got them both killed, and Steve’s throat works against Bucky’s hand before he realizes that his hands are free, draped useless against the top of his head with Bucky making him stand tip toes with one hand on his throat and one hand on his cock.The metal wall is cold and Bucky’s hand is cold and Steve is going to burn to death trapped between them, trying desperately to thrust into Bucky’s hand with too much pressure and not enough friction to get off before they’re caught.Bucky’s fingers press up under his jaw bone, making him swallow and choke with parted lips, trying to stay quiet, and Bucky just watches him with that same dark look, face blank and head cocked to listen to the movement outside as he brings Steve off.

And it’s—close, so close, one side of the edge of painful, Bucky’s weight crushing his hip into the wall and every breath ragged against Bucky’s hand.Bucky bites his ear, quick and hot with the scrape of stubble all along the side of Steve’s face, and it’s almost—he’s almost—

“Steve?” Natasha calls in the dark, and they both freeze.Bucky’s hand tightens on his cock and the thought of finishing and not finishing right then is unbearable either way.He pushes against Bucky’s hand without thinking about it, so close— “You fall asleep in there?”

Bucky’s gone before Steve even draws a full breath, melting into the dark like a fever dream.Steve collapses forward, hands on knees to keep himself from buckling onto the floor, swallowing gulps of breath as quietly as he can.The uniform doesn’t show much and thank god for that even if it hurts like hell now without Bucky’s hands on him to distract him, because Nat peeks around the edge of the open hatch just as he straightens up.If she notices him walking more stiffly than usual after a flight, she doesn’t say anything even though he’s painfully aware of that and his furious blush.

* * *

The showers off the hanger are cold enough to take the edge off, when trying to take matters in hand himself doesn’t get far enough.  Thinking about Bucky watching him and making him stand on tip toes isn’t the same, and neither is thinking about the last time they fucked like that, winter of 1941 when the radiators broke and made the building practically tropical.  

He can’t quite get there on his own, on edge in the empty locker room for what feels like an hour before giving up and turning the water ice cold.It’s not the same and the cold water only helps with the symptom, not the sickness, but Bucky’s hands aren’t available so it’ll have to do.It’s almost cold enough to distract him from his stiff muscles, and then he takes his time stretching out, easing the burn in his shoulders and back and determinedly not thinking about anything else so he can have a hope of sleeping.

And much good it does him, because there’s a pack of razors and a can of shave gel sitting on the kitchen counter by the time he gets back to the apartment.

_No-alcohol formula!Great for sensitive areas!Triple blade—built for male terrain!Engineered for tricky manscaping!_

Well.

It’s as clear as anything else they haven’t talked about the past few months, but it’s a start, since it means Bucky’s been thinking about it.And it’s—he wasn’t really going to be able to sleep before, and he’s certainly not going to be able to now.It’s the first sign of what Bucky wants from him and he’ll take it.

He gets as far as trimming back before wondering what the fuck he’s doing.Shave it all?Front and back?Leave some?In the end, shaving it all is easier, because he realizes halfway through he doesn’t know where to stop, and the boys on the internet are all shaved, so.He tries not to think about that the last time he was that bare was before Bucky shipped out.

It’s nicer than he expects it to be, when it’s all done.Damp, almost, even when he’s all dried off, or like he’s slick with lube already, and the thought of it makes him blush bright in the mirror and makes his cock stiffen.

Obscene, is what it is.

Which is suddenly, horribly even more true as Steve steps into underwear and straightens, boxer briefs hitched under his ass and caught on his stiffening cock when he catches sight of Bucky leaning there in doorway, watching him in the mirror.Steve swallows and puts his chin up to meet Bucky’s eye, because there’s no reason he should be blushing, they both know exactly what’s happening.Except Bucky’s expression is unreadable, looking Steve square in the face and nowhere else and maybe that’s the point, that Bucky didn’t even have to say a word and Steve just obeyed, and he blushes deeper thinking it.

Bucky doesn’t give him time to pull up his briefs or think about anything else, crowding him up against the vanity without letting him turn around.Bucky’s expression is even less readable up close and the heavy shadow of him goes straight to Steve’s throbbing cock.Bucky doesn’t even touch him at first, his breath on Steve’s neck hardly different from the humid warm air, because even if he’s two inches shorter he’s a hundred pounds heavier and he could pin Steve over the counter if he wanted.But he doesn’t, and Steve’s just trapped by Bucky’s cool breath on his shoulder and his own hard cock.

Steve braces his hands against the vanity counter, giving up before the fight’s even started because even the suggestion of Bucky’s heat against his back is enough to make him shiver.He can just catch movement in the mirror, sees Bucky’s hands move before he feels fingers, shocking cold on both sides of his hips, just above the elastic band where it’s caught halfway up.Where Bucky used to tease him mercilessly, make him beg for it until he was almost ready to come just getting his shorts off, Bucky now is efficient and neat.Practically gentle in the impersonalness of his cold hands.There’s a bare shadow of warmth in his palms where they skim over the curve of Steve’s ass pushing his boxers down, and Steve has to hang his head because if he wasn’t painfully hard before, he is now with Bucky’s hands barely on him.

Bucky finally presses against him as Steve obediently steps out of his underwear, Bucky crowding him just enough to keep him in place against the counter, and it’s hard to tell if Bucky is hard or not.He’s dressed, dark belted denim and a black Shield tank, the lines of his muscles and scars standing out sharp in the heat and harsh light of the bathroom.

Steve thinks he catches a bare flicker of a smile in the mirror right before Bucky shoves his shoulder down and pulls his ass back in one motion, but that’s all it is, a flicker and the barest hint compared to the sharp brutal yank of Bucky’s hands on him.And then there’s even less hiding how exposed he is, his throbbing cock and shaved balls feeling almost unbearably hot under Bucky’s cold metal hand, sweat prickling up Steve’s spine and down his thighs.  

His palms slip on the cool vanity, gone suddenly slick now that he has nothing to concentrate on but the sight of his own knuckles, the cool pressure of Bucky’s fingers not quite pressing into him and his cock leaking against the vanity.His throat is still raw from Bucky’s hand pressed across it, and if he doesn’t have to be quiet now, he doesn’t quite remember that, the reminder a painful throb with every labored breath.Bucky holds him scruffed by the back of the neck, thigh pressed to Steve’s to keep him in place and his fingers roaming too intimate to be anything other than an inspection.

He can’t look at himself or Bucky in the mirror, head pressed down by the angle of Bucky’s hand, and he’s torn between wanting and not wanting to see, Bucky dressed behind him with his legs spread in the harsh light.He can feel where he’s flushed from nipples to the tips of his ears and all down his thighs, worse still thinking about how it looks.

It crackles up his spine when Bucky takes his fingers away to rip open a packet of lube and the blood temperature contrast of the lubed being pushed into him by Bucky’s cold fingers with no preamble makes him shudder and tighten, but Bucky is as relentless as he’s ever been.Or, relentless where he used to be steady.His broad right hand tightens on the back of Steve’s neck, hot now, and the fingers of his left feel impossibly big, chills chasing pin pricks down Steve’s thighs.The motion is smooth and mechanical, burning with the stretch and it’s been so long since Bucky did this, years and ages.

It’s not enough before Bucky’s done, but it’s never going to be.Bucky shoves him stumbling out of the bathroom towards the bed, and his toes tingle with it, nerves unused to being fucked after all this time, as bad as their first time when Bucky fucked him with no prep but plenty of vaseline and it felt like he couldn’t walk afterwards.  

It’s too dark to see where he’s putting his feet or hands, practically tripping over the bed that’s exactly where it’s always been, clumsy with how hard he is.He manages to land on his tailbone, bouncing once before Bucky yanks him up by the hair.It’s not exactly kissing so much as biting, Bucky’s stubble scraping along his jaw and teeth lighting up his nerves.  

He’s clothed and just out of reach, leaning over Steve with just a hand fisted in his hair.It hurts, but not as much as the shocking bright pain when Steve twists a hand in Bucky’s shirt and tries to pull him closer, not registering that he’s been slapped until Bucky’s shoved him down and flipped him over.The slap stings where his cheek’s pressed against the mattress, where the skin around his mouth is already raw from kissing, and he tries to push himself up until Bucky shoves him back down.

Bucky fumbles for something under the bed and comes up with rope, and fuck, how long has that been there and he didn’t know.Bucky twists Steve’s arms behind his back, pinning them against the small of his back, wrist to elbow, and Steve lets himself be tied.The motion presses his cock down against the edge of the bed, and it’s embarrassing how bad he needs it, that he’s almost grateful for it, that he presses back into Bucky just so he can be shoved back down again.

Bucky ties him quick and efficient as anything else, and when he’s done Steve lifts his ass, past caring what he looks like as long as it means he’ll finally get fucked.But Bucky flips him over, as if he weighed as much as he did in 1940, and it’s extra insurance, Steve’s arms tied behind him without the leverage to pull against the knots.

Steve breathes harshly, legs braced against the mattress watching Bucky strip off his shirt, silhouetted in the light from the bathroom so his face is hidden, as if Steve could read any more in his expression than he ever has.Bucky takes his time undoing his fly but doesn’t strip, yanking Steve into him with one hand on his thigh, dragging Steve across the bed to him.

He lifts Steve’s ass in both hands and pushes into him in one motion, smooth and mechanical, fucking him in sharp strokes before Steve can steady himself, toes flexing in the cold air as if he can get any purchase that way.

Bucky doesn’t make a sound except for the slap of his thighs against Steve’s, muffled by his jeans, and the zipper digs in, just enough cold pain on his hot skin to be bright and sharpening.The lube smears up his thighs and down his ass, more with every thrust until it’s slick between them, sloppy.Lewd, as if any of the rest of this hasn’t been terribly vulgar.

The look on Bucky’s face, Steve might as well not even be there, just the pretext and he could be anybody.His fingers dig into the back of Steve’s knees, lifting his ass off the bed, angling him so Bucky can fuck him deeper, fast and sharp with the sound of Steve’s ragged breathing covering any sound Bucky makes.Steve never thought he’d miss it, Bucky’s running mouth during sex, every dirty thing that came into his head when they fucked, but he’d take it now over this silent, intense focus, trapped where Bucky can see right through him.

Bucky comes almost exactly the way he used to, frantically sharp and erratic, losing all pretense of control except it’s not as if Steve has any, arms and shoulders braced against the mattress until Bucky stills in him, head bent.His fingers tighten on Steve’s thighs almost reflexively as his cock throbs, come leaking out around his cock down Steve’s thighs with the lube, and then he’s pulling away.Steve can hear him pushing away on the mattress, shoving Steve away from him in the dark, pushing Steve away from himself so that Steve’s flopped over onto his belly, cock pressed between his belly and the mattress.

He comes shuddering against the sheets almost as soon as Bucky shoves him away, thighs and calves gone tight as he twists against the ropes.His face burns and the sheets feel impossible rough where his faces is pressed into the mattress, and Bucky has to be watching but he’s too far gone to do anything but press into the bed in short, shuddering gasps.

Bucky puts a hard hand on his hip agains and pushes fingers into him while he’s still tight and shuddering, two or maybe three, as if it matters, and Steve twists against him and the mattress, blind to whether he wants more or to get away because it won’t stop and his nerves are electric, just this side of pain.Bucky works him open, slick and blunt and inevitable as if he could be more open, like they might go another round and Steve sobs a breath against the sheets because he wants it even now.Bucky’s fingers in him only slow when Steve finally stops shuddering, cock throbbing between his belly and the sheets as he swallows giant breaths, and then Bucky’s hands are gone.

The silence is deafening, and he could open his eyes but it wouldn’t mean anything in the dark with no sound but the blood thundering in his head and the sound of his own gasping breath.  

Bucky’s not touching him and he could be anywhere, padding around the room or gone or right beside him.He can’t tell and doesn’t particularly care until there’s a quiet, sharp snick of something that can’t be anything but a switchblade, and Steve tenses.Bucky would never, but Steve’s on edge, thrumming with it and Bucky’s hand between his shoulder blades sends waves of prickling shivers down his back and thighs, because there would be no getting away from it if Bucky did.  

Steve can feel the knife move closer, a shift in the air pressure and nothing else before the dull side of it is pressed to his skin and slid under the ropes, snapping them open effortlessly.The flood of feeling back into his cold finger tips is like another release, hot washes of pain over the relief of it as he lies there gasping.  

It’s not until Steve gets his breathing under control and starts shivering alone in the empty bed that he realizes Bucky took his distraction to press a kiss between his shoulder blades where his hand had been.It prickles across his skin, just light enough to think he’s imagining it, and Bucky really is gone when he finally sits up.


End file.
